


We All Have A Hell

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Non Consensual, Orgy, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence, Violation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-01
Updated: 2010-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-11 09:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione makes a really stupid decision, and finds herself in the hands of her old Potions teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We All Have A Hell

Hermione sped into the kitchen that evening, wrapped up warm on the cold, wintry night. She grabbed herself an apple and took a bite, savouring the taste for it was the last thing she'd be eating for a few hours. Looking around the kitchen she saw nothing but solemn, sad faces — neither of them wanted her to do this task, but she'd insisted, and once she got something into her head, she was bound to do it, no matter what.

"You don't have to do this —"

Hermione stopped in her tracks, staring at Harry as though he didn't know her at all. "Yes, I do. It was my fault and I'll damn well take responsibility for it."

"It wasn't your fault. Seamus' death was nobody's fault but the Death Eaters'," Harry tried to reason with her. "You don't need to pick up the body."

"Yes," Hermione stressed. "I do." She didn't wait to hear anymore, slamming the door behind her as she made her way out into the dark and cold evening. It was late, but she'd chosen that time hoping the chances of being attacked then would be slim. They had to know one of them would return to pick up the body eventually, but she'd chosen an obscure time, hoping they were sleeping or retired from the job. A lot of those Death Eaters were nothing but goons. Focusing on the forest of where the last battle had been fought, she Apparated, listening carefully for signs of life. There were none, and her hopeful heart led her towards where the body had last been seen.

Over the past few months, before his death, Hermione and Seamus had grown close, and she felt she owed him a proper burial, a proper chance to say goodbye. The curse that had killed him had been meant for her, so she took full responsibility for his death. Many times over the past week had Harry and Ron tried to explain it wasn't her fault, but she wouldn't listen, not being able to rest until she'd said her goodbyes to a close friend. It was the least she could do.

The body was exactly where they'd left it, in a little dip near a tall oak tree. Careful not to make a sound in case anyone was watching, she knelt a few yards away, a tear streaming down her face as she saw the flies had started to devour him.

"Oh, Seamus," she sobbed, her tears full blown now. She was so lost in the moment she didn't even try to disguise the loud noise she was making, and this turned out to be a grave mistake when she felt herself being grabbed from behind, a rough hand clasped over her mouth.

"_Silencio_," a voice said casually, and she found herself looking into the cold, grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy. "Silly, silly girl," he remarked. "You left yourself so open."

_Bastard. I was grieving,_ Hermione wanted to say, but forced into silence by their spell. Whoever had hold of her was doing a fantastic job of it, her arms being crushed with their strength.

"Relax, Bella," Lucius said, "she won't be getting away any time soon."

Hermione could feel Bellatrix's breath on her hair as she loosened her grip slightly, and Hermione shook about the parts that ached. She glanced at Lucius, a band of Death Eaters flanking him, and he was staring at her with great interest.

"Who's the dead man?" Lucius kicked Seamus' body. Hermione wanted to scream and shout, to thrash around and make them pay for talking about the dead so nonchalantly, but as soon as she'd moved her arm an inch, Bellatrix was on her like a shot. "I suppose it doesn't matter," Lucius continued. "He's dead now."

_Evil, evil man_, Hermione thought, the tears almost gushing down her face like a waterfall.

"Oh my, how insensitive of me," Lucius mockingly touched his heart. "What am I supposed to say — I'm sorry for your loss?" He sniggered. "I wouldn't want to lie now, would I?"

Hermione attempted to elbow Bellatrix; anything to get away, but that woman had a vice-like grip.

"No, no, dearie," Bellatrix whispered in her ear. "Be a good girl, now."

Lucius nodded to the Death Eaters behind him. "Shall we?"

Hermione knew it wasn't really a question, it was a statement. None of them would dare defy Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord's second in command.

"I do hope He gives her to me," Bellatrix giggled madly, taking her right hand and stroking Hermione's hair roughly with it.

Lucius snorted. "I doubt it, Bella," and Hermione heard her hiss loudly. "Come on."

Hermione heard a loud crack as they Disapparated and, feeling dazed and dizzy, she steadied herself on the stone wall nearest her once they landed at their destination. For a few seconds she forgot why she was there and looked around, baffled. Then she heard Lucius' voice and it all came crashing back to her.

"No point trying to escape, Mudblood. This place is charmed to hell."

Hermione looked around; they were in a large room with stone walls and floors, a table in the centre and chairs arranged around it as if one were watching a show. There were rugs adorned around the room, dark green with Slytherin emblems on them. She dreaded to think what happened in this room and found herself gulping as she noticed the many implements on the walls — whips, chains, crops, paddles. It was enough to make her ill.

"This is the Hall," he said, as if he were showing a willing guest around his home. "You will be brought here whenever you are to please."

Hermione gulped, _to please?_

Lucius' lips curled into a tight smile. "I know what you are thinking, Mudblood. Don't worry, you'll find out soon." He walked towards a wooden set of double doors, indicating for her to follow him. Defiantly she shook her head, but a prod in the back from Bellatrix forced her by his side.

"If you're really as clever as they say, you'll do as you're told and keep your mouth shut," Lucius said before rapping twice on the door. "_Finite Incantatem_," he cast upon her, releasing her from her silenced state.

"What —?" she asked, puzzled, just as a loud voice permitted them to enter. Hermione was gobsmacked — this room was even worse than the last. There was a small stage right in the centre, upon it sat a gold throne, and upon that...Voldemort. She gasped, clutching her hands to her mouth. Around him on the stage were even more Death Eaters than had captured her, all wearing their masks so she couldn't indentify them.

"My Lord," Lucius and Bellatrix said in unison, bowing before him and joining the rest of the Death Eaters by his side. Not knowing what to do, she just stood there, dumbfound and dazzled by the whole situation, hoping she'd wake up and it would have been a very bizzarre dream.

"— and you caught the Mudblood," Voldemort said with relish, eyeing her carefully. "Please, join us." He beckoned her forward, and heeding Lucius Malfoy's message, she obeyed. "You are alone now, but more should arrive tonight. Now," he looked around at each of his Death Eaters, "who to place you with?"

"Place me with?" Hermione blurted out, then realising her mistake and shivering with the look he gave her. It was cold and cruel, and she bit her lip in the hope he wouldn't give her to Bellatrix. That woman was mad; she was sure she'd be dead within a few weeks with her.

"My Lord —" Hermione looked up to see Bellatrix kneeling at Voldemort's feet. "I can break her, my Lord. Please, give her —"

Voldemort waved his hands. "No, Bella." There was no argument on her part, but she did give Hermione a look that told her their encounter wasn't over. His eyes scoured the room some more, and Hermione followed them, though it did no good with them all wearing masks. "Severus. You shall have her," Voldemort said at once, and Hermione gasped — _he_ was here?

Snape stepped forward, removed his mask and sank to his knees next to Bellatrix. "If you please, my Lord, training slaves is not my thing. I'm sure Bella would do a —"

"I have spoken." Voldemort stood up, walking round the back of the stage towards another door. "I want a report in a week, Severus." The room cleared in a matter of seconds, leaving Hermione alone with her old Potions proffessor. She watched as he got up off his knees and walked towards her, grabbing her by the arm and leading her out of the room. He didn't speak, he hardly even breathed as he took her through many hallways and corridors. The silence was awkward and she wanted to break it, but she was trembling now — Dumbledore trusted Snape, and yet, here he was, in Voldemort's service. There was no way he could be trusted not to do her harm.

"In," he said with a gruff voice, pushing her through a door at the end of one of the corridors. She looked around; it was small and cluttered, really untidy. Over in the far corner was a bed, and there were two doors oppposite it; one she assumed would be the bathroom. Like the hall, the walls and floor were stone with green rugs, and she wondered how anyone could live here comfortably. Her remembrance of Malfoy Manor from when they were captured was beautiful and elegant, yet this...this was nothing more than a servants quarters, and the Death Eaters seemed to live there. She heard Snape slam the door behind her and she jumped around suddenly as he banged his fists on the wall in anger. "Fuck. _Fuck_."

Confused at his outburst, Hermione just stared at him, unsure of what to think.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Snape turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed, searching her.

"I was just thinking about what a traitor you are," she scoffed, surprised by her own nastiness. Though, in these circumstances, she believed she could forgive herself.

"I'm not —" Snape started to say, but there was a rap on the door which interupted him. Whoever it was didn't wait for an answer, just swanning in as if he owned the place.

"Severus." It was the calm, cold voice of Lucius Malfoy, and Hermione thanked her lucky stars she hadn't been given to him. "You seem to have hit the jackpot." Lucius walked towards Hermione, and she flinched in anticipation of his touch. He let out a little laugh as he started to circle her, inspecting her with his eyes.

"Stop it!" Hermione batted his hand away when it touched her shoulder, moving backwards out of his grip.

Lucius turned to look at Snape, who by now was sitting in an armchair, deep in thought. "Albeit, she'll need a lot of training."

"Bellatrix would have done a much finer job," Snape said, turning to look at the both of them.

Lucius nodded. "I'm sure. But the Dark Lord does love irony, and you were her Professor."

"There's no need to remind me," he said, louder than his usual montone voice. "I want to be alone with her."

"That eager already?" Lucius took one last look at Hermione and stroked her hair. "I don't blame you. Perhaps you might consider —"

Snape pointed towards the door. "If you please."

"Of course." Lucius left the room, his cloak whipping around the door as it closed, leaving them in complete silence. It was awkward, really awkward, and Hermione didn't have a clue what to do. Should she try to escape? Would it even be worth it? She probably wouldn't even get past Snape, let alone a home of Death Eaters.

Growing ever impatient by the silence, and as boredom was setting in, Hermione spoke. "What now?"

He met her eyes, looking through them for the longest time. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Hermione's voice was a lot more high pitched than she had originally intended. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Shut up, Miss Granger," he said quickly, realising his mistake after she picked up on it.

"Miss Granger? We're not in school anymore, _Snape_." She crossed her arms as flashbacks of Hogwarts came swimming back to her. "Or did you forget that?" Many times in school Snape had sneered at her for her cleverness, for her eagerness to answer questions, and for the pure fact that she was a Mudblood, or so she thought. Now she was sure that's why he hadn't liked her, as here she was, his captive, and he seemed clueless about it. "What did Malfoy mean, about being eager?" she asked suddenly.

Snape waved his hands casually. "It doesn't matter. It's not happening."

"It matters to me!"

He sighed, not even bothering to look at her this time. "He meant I was eager to shag you, Mudblood." The words were harsh, and Hermione gasped at his bluntness. He must've seen many a horrible thing go on here if he could talk about something like that as if it didn't matter.

"Are you?" she asked, shocked and worried about the answer.

"No. But I will if I have to."

Hermione snorted. "Have to? Why would you _have_ to?"

Standing up calmly, Snape made his way over to her, and she found herself backing up slowly. His voice didn't falter as he spoke, and his eyes were glued to hers. "We are in a War. You are clever enough to know exactly why you are here, surely." And then it dawned on her, the reason for her being captured. She'd been so busy with everything else that was going on that it'd completely slipped her mind _why_ she'd been captured.

"For information on Harry," she said slowly and quietly, to which Snape nodded. "But then, why did he..." she almost couldn't say the words, it made her far too sick, "...give me to you?" She felt uncomfortable as she noticed his eyes roaming all over her.

"You heard Lucius. The Dark Lord loves irony." He took a step back, giving her more breathing space. "I am to torture the information out of you."

"Oh!" Hermione clasped her hands to her mouth, eyes swelling up with tears in fear of what was to come. The reality of the situation was only just hitting her; it wasn't a dream, it wasn't a game, it was real. She'd been brought here to be tortured, to give up her best friend, and by the man who used to be her Potions Professor, the man Dumbledore was sure was on their side. How wrong he was, she thought, trembling slightly. "Are you going to?"

"I will," he said, the words coming out as though he was choking on them, "when I have to. Keeping up appearances, as we British say."

"What do you mean?" Hermione was far too much in a state to try and work out what he meant, wanting the information handed to her, but she should've known; Snape was never like that at school, so there was no reason he would be like that now.

"You were annoyingly eager to answer questions in my class, Mudblood. Put those talents to good use now."

"But I'm tired!" she whined like a small child, ceasing Snape's previous calm appearance.

"Fine. Fine. You're tired," he sighed, pulling something out of his pocket. "I wanted to keep you from it as long as possible, but since you insist you shall have it your way."

Hermione's confused expression was apparent. "Keep me from what?" she asked as she felt his hands around her neck. It felt as though he was putting a very heavy necklace around her neck, and when her fingers touched it, she realised it was black leather — a collar. "What are you doing?"

"What is necessary." Snape had always been a man of very few words, and he clipped a lead onto the collar around her neck.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione protested, grabbing at the collar, trying to pull and get it off, but there must have been a magical charm around it as it wasn't even budging an inch. He tugged on the leash, pulling her roughly forwards so she had no choice but to follow him. They went a different way from before, making their way down many steps of stairs until finally arriving at an iron gate at the bottom of one of them. Snape used his wand to open it and tugged her inside, closing it swiftly behind him.

There were rows upon rows of empty iron cages, each with nothing in them but a long, thin wooden bench and a bucket. He opened the first one he came to, opposite the gate, and shoved her inside. The lead was taken off, but the collar remained, and try as she might she couldn't get within six inches of the door.

"There's a charm on it," Snape sighed as she continously tried to get through, closing the door calmly behind him and leaving her to her own devices. Now she really wished she hadn't whinged at him, she'd only made her situation far worse. She stepped backwards until her legs collided with the bench, allowing it to buckle her at her knees so she sat down on it. It was rough and uncomfortable, but it was far more inviting than the cold stone floor. The silence around was eerie, though Voldemort had said there would be others joining her later. She wasn't sure whether to pleased or horrified at that; pleased in the sense she wouldn't be alone in her predicament, or horrified that she wouldn't be the only one being tortured.

Hermione leant back on the bench, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift off to sleep. There was nothing more she could do now, and begging and screaming would do no good — she doubted anyone would be able to hear her all the way down there.

~

A couple of days had passed, and there had been no visitors, not even the others Voldemort had promised her. She'd half expected Snape to come for her in the morning and torture information out of her, but he didn't. The only life she saw was the house elves that brought her food, and seemed to be under strict instructions not to even acknowledge her, let alone speak to her. Gratefully she accepted the food, though it was old and stale. This was no time and place to be a fussy eater, she knew that, and so she pinched her nose and shut her eyes while she swallowed, praying for the day she would leave this place. Harry and Ron would come for her, she was certain of that.

Hermione was just finishing the last of the day's meal when she heard footsteps on the stairs, far too loud to be a house elves. She shivered, wary of who it might be, hoping it wouldn't be Lucius or Bellatrix, and especially not that Wolf. She was sure he'd love to get his paws on her. The iron gate was opened, and she met the eyes of a Death Eater she knew as Rowle; a very large man with blond hair, though not quite as light as the Malfoy men's were. He sniggered when he saw her state, and she narrowed her eyes at him, stepping backwards.

"My pretty," he said, opening her cell door and stepping inside, a wide, grin on his face and cruel glint in his eyes. "You are wanted. Can't ever think _why_." He pulled something out of his pocket, her eyes scanning to see what it was: a leash. The same leash Snape had attached on her two days ago.

"Don't come near me," she spat, backing up as far as she possibly could until her splayed hands hit the wall.

Rowled laughed. "Give me the excuse to harm you, pretty. Go on, give me it." His hands traced her unmarked flesh, his eyes undressing her. "Mudblood skin should not be so _clean_."

Hermione didn't like the way he seemed to find such glee in saying it, not protesting when he attached the leash to her in case he took it as an opportunity to harm her. She refused to look at him as he led her out of the dungeons and up the stairs, through the corridors she guessed was on the way to Snape's. It was the only place she could think she'd be taken, and she was half glad; anything to get away from this man, who she knew from past experiences cared about no life other than his own.

After what seemed like an eternity of spending time in Rowle's company, they reached the end of the corridor where Snape's quarters were. Unlike Lucius, he rapped three times on the door to alert him of their presence.

"You requested _it_," Rowle sneered, pushing her into the room first and into the arms of her old Potions Professor.

"That will be all." Snape waved his hand dismissively, ignoring the moan as the door was shut.

Feeling awkward and ashamed at being man—handled, Hermione jumped out of Snape's arms and flinched when he leant forward to remove the lead. "What do you want?" she asked defiantly, forgetting the power he had to make her situation ten times worse than it already was.

"To prepare you," he stated simply, indicating the clothes on the bed in the corner. "You need a bath," he pointed in the direction of the door in the far corner, and she didn't hesitate to make her way there, revelling in the chance to clean herself. She hated being unclean, and being near so many Death Eaters made her feel constantly grubby, especially sleeping in the dungeons with nothing but a bucket to do her busines in.

Closing the door behind her she reached for the lock, only to find there was none. She scanned the room for something she could push up against the door to stop him coming in, but there was nothing loose. It was just as simple as the rest of his room, only it looked untouched. The soaps and shower stuff looked new, almost, and she snorted at the fact that Lavender had been right — the man really did never wash his hair.

She sat on the toilet while she waited for the bath to run, staring at her appearance in the mirror. Apart from a few grubby marks on her cheeks, she looked fine, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened to her. On the inside, though, she felt horrible, trembling with what the future may bring, though she tried not to think of that as much as she could. She was startled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door.

"Hurry up in there."

"The bath has only just run," she protested, waiting until she heard him walk away to undress and get in it. The warm water felt fantastic against her skin, and she lost herself in memories as she lay back in the bath and cleaned herself.

"I said," Snape was sounding ever more impatient, "hurry up in there."

Hermione sighed. She'd known it couldn't last forever, but she would have liked just a little bit longer, a bit more time to herself in clean and warm surroundings. She used to spend hours in the bath, something her friends had complained many a time about. It was her place to forget the world and focus on herself for once, since she spent so much time thinking of others and fighting for them. She stepped out of the bath carefully and wrapped a towel around her tightly, wringing the water out of her hair so it didn't drip everywhere.

"What took you so long?" Snape said angrily when she finally emerged.

"I was..." she didn't know what to say. "I was bathing."

He nodded towards the garments on the bed. "Get dressed. And be quick about it. We have somewhere to be."

"Huh?" Hermione said as she walked towards the bed, turning her nose up at the scantily clad clothes. "Why do we have somewhere to be?"

"You will see in due course," he said, his patience wearing thin as he sat in an armchair, watching her carefully.

The clothes provided for her were a small, white dress and a white thong. It was all there was on offer, not even a bra, but she knew that unless she wanted to be naked, she had to take them. "I'm not getting changed in front of you, you pervert."

Snape averted his eyes, but he didn't move his body at all. She knew she had to settle for it, she'd already seen who he could become should she anger him. It didn't stop her facing away from him while she dressed, though, blushing at the scantily clad outfit where the dress only just covered her bum. The thong, well, what could she say about that? She'd never dream of wearing any such thing had she not been being forced to. There was almost no point wearing it since there was hardly material to put on, but she didn't think he would compromise on the matter, and anything was better than nothing.

"Are you done?" he asked, just as she turned around to face him.

"Yes," she said curtly, not daring to look at him. She hated showing off so much flesh, she felt exposed and vulnerable, reduced to next to nothing over a simple garment. She folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover the amount of cleavage that was showing as he drew near, the leash in hand again. She didn't protest, knowing there was no point, and followed him as he led her out the door.

"Where are we going?" she asked, more than once as they made their way through the stone walls of Malfoy Manor. He didn't respond, simply tugging on the leash harder in an effort to get her to be quiet and carry on walking. They didn't pass anyone in the corridors. In fact, it seemed deadly quiet. Far too quiet.

When they finally landed outside a door, Snape gave her a solemn look. "I'm sorry."

Hermione wanted to ask why, what for, but she didn't have chance as the doors opened and she was pushed inside. The noise was deafening, roars of excitement echoing around the room which she now recognised as The Hall. She gulped as she remembered how Lucius had said she would be brought there to please. Doing a quick headcount, she realised there must have been about thirty or forty Death Eaters there at least. "What's going on?" she asked quietly, moving closer to Snape than she would have liked, wanting his protection. Now she realised why he was sorry as she felt faint and started to tremble. The only luck she thought she had was that Voldemort didn't seem to be there.

"The Mudblood, Severus!" one of the men howled as he literally had to force her into the middle of the room, right in front of the long table she'd seen only a couple of days ago. She scanned the room for where the voice came from, her eyes finally settling on a young Death Eater, one who could only be a couple of years her senior. They were all rowdy, like animals at a zoo, all with their masks off and grins on their faces, waiting for the show to start.

Hermione looked up into Snape's eyes, but he wasn't looking at her, avoiding as best he could. "What are you —they— going to do to me?" He ignored her question, turning her round and bending her roughly over the table, hiking up her skirt. She attempted to get back up, but he flicked his wand to hold her in place, so she was at his, or anyone else's, mercy. The only comfortable place to put her head was at the side, which meant she could still see some of the Death Eaters, albeit not very well.

"Wooo!" she heard them cheer as the dress was lifted as far as it could go with her glued to the table. The thong she was wearing was now on view to everyone in the room, making her cringe and tears well up in her eyes. "Nice arse, Mudblood," she heard one of them shout, squeezing her eyes shut tightly as though it wasn't really happening.

Suddenly, Snape called out the name of one of the Death Eaters, hushing the entire room. "Avery. You are to pick the instrument today."

_Instrument? What are they on about?_

Hermione couldn't possibly fathom what was meant by this, until her eyes connected once again with the whips and paddles on the walls. _No, no, no,_ she begged in her head, not wanting to show them her fear by saying it out loud. Nobody could save her now, not even Snape, he'd proved that much already. He'd put her in this situation and she would never forgive him for it.

"How about this, Severus?" said Avery, a little chuckle coming out of him.

Hermione strained her neck the other way to look at what Avery was holding: a whip that seemed to have nine strands on it. Her body shuddered, and she knew Snape felt it because his hand shook in unison with her.

"No," Snape said firmly. "We need to break her in gently."

There were many boos and jeers around the room for this, and although Hermione was grateful, if he thought she was going to thank him for it he had something else coming. If she wasn't so concerned about worsening her current situation she would have spoken already, shouting to the rooftops what animals they were.

"This, then," Avery settled on a wooden paddle, a plain one, and Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"That will do," Snape said, reaching towards Avery to take the implement off of him. Hermione craned her neck round to the other side, so she was now facing the open doorway. She didn't want to see any of the other atrocities on the walls. "Thirty, I think," she heard Snape say, and started to brace herself for what she knew was coming. She didn't know how this would feel, having never been spanked before, so she clenched her teeth and tensed her shoulders against her invisible bonds.

The first hit came almost immediately, and it felt as though he wanted it to be over just as much as she did. _No_, she thought, _that can't be right, surely_. It wasn't as hard as she'd predicted, but it did make her bum sting and clench up.

"That will only make the pain worse," he sneered, to which the crowd sniggered at. "Come on, lads, aren't you going to count along?"

For the remainder of her paddling, that's exactly what they did. Each and every hit was followed by a yelp from her, as they grew harder each time, and the number from the crowd. The humiliation burned into her and she was nearly drawing blood from her lip by the time he'd reached thirty. She'd promised herself she wouldn't scream and thrash about; she didn't want to give them any more excitement than they were already getting out of it.

"Is that all?" she whispered, her eyes pinched shut at the colour of crimson her bottom must be. She could feel the heat emanating off it herself.

"_Is that all_?" Snape mockingly repeated, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "The Mudblood here would like to know if that's all. What do we think?"

The whole room erupted into a roaring laughter and then shouts of "No, never!" filled the room. For someone who'd apologised before doing this to her he didn't seem very sorry now he was worsening the situation. Snape leant in closer to her, but far enough away for everyone to enjoy what he was about to say.

"You're not getting off that lightly," he sneered. "I haven't had you yet."

"What?" Hermione gasped, straining as much as she could against whatever was holding her down. "You can't! I'm...I'm ——"

Snape sniggered. "You're a virgin?" He slowly pulled her thong down to reveal her cunt and arse to the whole room. The crimson on her bottom clashed with her pussy, which was as white as anything. "Oh how sweet." His hands traced over her nether lips, making her flinch at the touch. She had never even played with herself before, let alone have someone do it for her, so the fact that Snape now had his grubby paws all over her..."I'm going to enjoy this."

"You bastard! You bastard!" Swearing was most certainly not part of her day to day language, but she reckoned this situation called for something a little more vicious. "You can't do this to me!"

"I think you'll find I can," Snape sneered as she heard him undoing his robes, yanking his trousers down. She couldn't see him, she couldn't see his _thing_, and she was glad. Vomiting would just make the situation even more unpleasent. She pinched her eyes shut tightly and bit her lip as he fondled her down below, stroking his fingers across her labia and dancing around her hole, probably in an attempt to 'loosen her up' she thought. Then he stopped messing around and shoved a finger up her, causing her pain as she was dry and tight. She felt invaded, vulnerable, sick to her stomach that she was being violated in such a way, and yet she knew the worst was to come. This was just a finger, however intruding it felt. "I think I'm going to need some assistance. If only for my own pleasure."

Snape cast a spell and Hermione felt something cold and viscous against her virgin skin, her lips being parted as Snape spread the liquid all around and inside her. These small mercies seemed to be all she could hope for now, but he didn't give her another drop after he'd whisked it around her enough.

"That'll do."

Her eyes still pinched shut, her lip still bitten, she braced herself as she felt his cock brush lightly against her vagina. The cheers in the room were louder than ever, but she drowned them out in an attempt to bring her consciousness out of the situation. She didn't want to pass out, but if she could pretend she was somewhere else, somewhere happier, perhaps this would be a lot easier. She squealed in pain as he forced his way into her, the lube providing only a shadow of the mercy she needed. She'd dreamt many times of losing her virginity, and it was never like this. It was full of flowers, rose petals, romantic music and candles. This...this was disgusting, inhumane, and tears streamed down her face as she realised she would never get this moment back.

With each thrust of Snape's, Hermione yelped, though the pain was slowly lessening the more he did it. The physical pain that was; she realised she'd be mentally scarred by this forever. Her breasts were being pressed against the table harshly as he pushed into her harder, rocking the table and causing the ruckus in the room to escalate. It seemed to go on forever, then there was a smack on her bottom and a loud groan from Snape; he was coming. Inside of her. She dreaded to think what would happen if she became pregnant with his child. No, that was far too awful to think about.

"That was nice," he sneered, pulling out of her with a loud plop. Her eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the room, and then finally settled on a figure at the door. The man was tall, blond and...no, it couldn't be, could it? Could it really be _him_? Could it really be Draco Malfoy? Was he a Death Eater now? She blinked again, fearing her eyes were failing her, but no, it was him alright. He was leant against the doorjamb, watching her intensly with a look of disgust on his face. Whether it was disgust for her or the situation she didn't know, but one thing she was glad about was that he didn't seem to be getting off on her degradation like the rest of the animals did.

The humiliation she was already feeling was burning up more as she realised he just couldn't take his eyes off her, and she couldn't bring hers away from his either. She tried pleading with her eyes, begging him to save her, but his face was now expressionless. There was no disgust, no pity, not even excitement. Nothing. He was blank.

"Who's next?" Snape said quietly, though the Death Eaters were hanging on his every word and heard him perfectly. There were shouts around the room of 'Me, me!' and suddenly she felt the invisible bonds being removed. Taking a chance, she tried to run towards the door, to run towards Malfoy, but Snape caught her arm, swung her round and threw her into the arms of the Death Eaters. Soon she was trapped, they were all around her in a circle. There was no escape, and she didn't know what to do, falling to the floor and hugging her knees in desperation. Her eyes flitted to the door again — he was still watching her, watching her torment and humiliation, yet ignoring her begging eyes.

He was as much a part of this as any of them, she concluded, narrowing her eyes at him before being spread out on the floor. By now, Snape's cum was seeping down her thighs, making her skin sticky and smelly. Hands were all over her body quickly, grabbing her breasts and shoving fingers around her cunt. Never before had she felt so invaded, until a cock was poked right in front of her face.

"If you bite this, Mudblood, I swear it'll be the last thing you ever do."

The voice was cold and harsh, and she didn't even recognise the Death Eater that was now forcing his way inside her mouth. She gagged, wanting to be sick, but this didn't stop him from fucking her throat viciously, showing no mercy as her eyes bulged.

"Her cunt's mine," she heard someone say, though unable to see who it was due to the man sat on her face. Seconds later there were fingers roughly pushing their way into her pussy, followed almost immediately by a cock a bit smaller than Snape's was. The man didn't waste any time, fucking her quickly and spending himself inside her within minutes. Then she felt a finger at her arse and jumped up, almost choking herself on the man's cock and causing everyone to laugh.

"How about here?" he said, pressing roughly against her hole and causing her to thrash around as much as she could.

Snape cleared his throat. "That will do for today."

There were jeers, boos and bangs around the room, the disappointment obvious, though nobody dared to go against him. The man in her mouth removed his cock, having not yet cum, as did the man in her cunt. As the Death Eaters moved away from her body, she lay on the floor, naked and covered in all manner of bodily fluids. Too exhausted and degraded to do anything, she just lay there, breathless and panting, facing away from the crowd. She looked up at the doorway, but Malfoy was gone. She wondered when he had left and why he had stayed to watch her so long, if at all. It was this thought that kept her occupied as Snape dragged her up off the floor, hooked on her leash and led her out of the room.

The look of disgust on his face was one she couldn't get out of her mind, and it was always followed by his expressionless one too. She pondered on them so much she didn't realise they were at Snape's quarters already until she was pushed inside, falling on the floor and not bothering to get up. She didn't see the point. He probably wanted her in that position anyway, ready to rape again at a moment's notice.

"Get up," he said, slamming the door and casting many an echantment around the room. He turned to face her, but he didn't look at her. It was almost as if he couldn't. "Nobody will be able to come in now. Or hear us."

"After what you just did, why do you care?" she managed to get out, though in between breaths. He ignored her question, dismissing it with his hand and then pointing to the bathroom. "Bathe."

As exhausted as she was, Hermione gladly took him up on this offer, wanting to rid herself of all the disgusting mess on her. She felt dirty, used and abused, hating the fact that her body brought pleasure to a load of lunatics. Again she sat on the toilet whilst waiting for the bath to run, but this time she didn't look in the mirror. She didn't want to see how she looked after what they'd done to her. She just wanted to scrub it all off and pretend it never happened, though Snape would be a constant reminder. The man who did it to her. The man who apologised to her.

Suddenly remembering this, she fled out of the bathroom in a renewed rage, finding him sipping Firewhiskey by the drinks cabinet. He looked up when she entered, but as usual didn't meet her eyes. "Why did you apologise before we went in? Why? How could you apologise and then do that to me?"

Snape was calm and silent for a few moments, swirling his Firewhiskey around as though he'd find an answer in there. "I had to."

"What?" she snapped back, not believing his answer was good enough.

"I had to do that," he pressed the glass to his lips and downed the whole thing, pouring himself another almost immediately, "and I apologised because I didn't want to."

Now that she hadn't expected. "But, you're a Death Eater..."

"Am I?" He raised his eyebrows. "I may have the Mark, but that is only for appearances."

"Dumbledore got you so wrong," she said quietly. "He believed in you."

Snape shook his head. "Dumbledore knows exactly what I am doing here."

"That can't be true!" she almost screamed. "If you were on our side I wouldn't be here!"

Snape's voice turned from calm to a subdued anger as he downed another glass of Firewhiskey in one. "Do you really think it's that easy? Really? Don't you think He'd notice if I just swanned out of here with you?" He threw the glass to the floor, watching it smash into several hundred pieces. "I'm playing a game, Granger. A dangerous one. One that could get us both killed should either of us fail."

Hermione scoffed. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to." He nodded to the bathroom. "Bathe."

Hermione turned on her heels and slammed the bathroom door behind her, switching the taps off quickly as the bath was almost overflowing. As she lay down in the bath and let the water wash over her, ridding her of the fluids of the earlier nights events, she repeated Snape's words over and over in her head. If he was telling the truth, that meant he was just doing what he had to, playing his part and damned well, too. If he was telling the truth, life wouldn't be that much better than if he was lying —— he wasn't going to take mercy on her in front of the other Death Eaters. She'd learned that much tonight.

She closed her eyes and ducked her head under the water, feeling at peace for the first time since she'd got here. Baths always made her feel at peace; they were so warm and lovely, calming and spiritual almost. It was as though they could take away all your troubles and fix them, and though she knew this wasn't true, it felt good to feel that it was, if only for a little while. Now she didn't have anywhere to be, she was taking her time, scrubbing each part of her body at least four times before she was satisifed it wasn't dirty anymore, but there was no scrubbing her soul or her memories.

Those scars would be etched upon her forever.

~

The Dark Lord was sat upon his usual throne chair, curling his fingers and staring intently at Snape. "Well, Severus. What have you got to tell me of the Mudblood?"

Severus bowed out of duty. "She is hard to break, my Lord."

"I heard of your escapade earlier on in the week," Voldemort chucked. "I'm sure she did not take too kindly to that."

He shook his head. "No, my Lord."

"Any information on Potter?"

"I'm afraid not, my Lord. She won't speak of him."

"Then make her!" Voldemort screamed, his anger very apparant and his knuckles white from being so tense. "I want her broken and _begging_ to tell us where he is."

Severus nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

~

A week had passed since her ordeal, and she had spent it very much alone down in the dungeons. She figured Snape must be organising her food since the portions were quite generous, even if the food itself wasn't in date or that good to start with. Twice he'd come down to see her, but he hadn't stayed long, usually just watching her eat, and she had a horrible suspicion he might be watching her in her sleep too. If Snape was right, that he was on Dumbledore's side and was just a spy here, then he really didn't need her other than to appease the other Death Eaters that he was using and abusing her. And torturing information out of her, of course. The fact that she was so stubborn probably aided him in that way.

But of course, that was only if he was telling the truth, and Hermione wasn't so quick to believe the words that came out of her captor's mouth. Particularly not one who'd put who through the terrible suffering of losing her virginity and then being gangraped. No, she decided she was going to wait and see first, and be really quite wary of him in the meantime.

Hermione turned her head as she heard footsteps on the cold, stone stairs and she backed away out of fear of the unknown. Whoever she was expecting, it certainly wasn't the figure who now stood in front of her cell, the usual smirk completely gone from his face as though it had never really been there in the first place.

"Malfoy?" she said quietly, suddenly very aware of how naked she was. She'd been kept in such a state since her bath, 'appearances', Snape had called it. It wouldn't exactly look as though he was trying to break her if she was fully clothed all the time, though she hardly considered a small dress and a thong fully clothed. "What are you doing here?"

"You are wanted." His voice was cold, the colour drained from his face and she clasped her hand to her mouth in fear.

"Not again? Not for ——?"

Malfoy opened the door. "I don't know what for. Just come here, will you? I need to attach this." Her eyes skirted to his hands, her usual leash hanging from them. Timidly she stepped forward, as though afraid he might pounce on her any moment. "I won't hurt you," he said, as though seeing her reaction to him. "I'm not like them."

"I'm sure," she scoffed, lifting her neck up so he could attach the leash the metal ring on her collar.

"I'm not," he protested as he dragged her out of the cell and up the stairs.

"Then what are you doing?"

"The dirty work," Malfoy sighed, and Hermione recognised the familiar route to where Snape was. She really hoped she wouldn't be taken to another one of those...well, she didn't know what to call them. Parties? Gatherings? Orgies? The latter seemed the most approrpiate and she stopped dead in her tracks. She wouldn't be willingly lead to one of those. She just wouldn't. "What are you doing?"

"I won't go. I won't be a part of that again."

"Don't do this, Granger." Malfoy seemed really stressed out, scanning the corridor for any other sign of life that might be checking up on him. "_Please_ don't do this."

"Why not? What do you care?"

Malfoy got right up close to her, his nose almost touching hers. "'_What do I care?_ You're not the only victim here, Granger." He tugged on the leash sharply, making her fall forward and almost over as she missed a step. "Come on." Not wanting to anger him further —— he was still a Death Eater —— she followed him to Snape's room, not saying another word and staring blankly ahead of her. They passed no one, which they both seemed grateful for, and when the time finally came for Malfoy to hand her over, he seemed nothing but relieved.

"Here," he shoved the leash into Snape's hands. "She's all yours." Malfoy shot out of sight as fast as one possibly could, and had it been any other situation it might have even been amusing.

But it wasn't any other situation.

And it wasn't amusing.

"Please," she begged quietly. "Don't take me to another of those again, please."

Snape cleared his throat. "They expect me to. But not tonight. We have other plans for tonight."

"Other plans?" she looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

"You, looking so clean, your skin. I'm supposed to be beating you into submission, not mollycoddling you."

"What do you mean?"

~

Severus kept his eyes firmly away from Granger's; he knew she'd be wearing that puppy dog look he so desperately tried to avoid. It was much harder to do what he had to if she was pleading with him, why couldn't she understand that? The Dark Lord had heard rumours that she hadn't really been touched, and this was necessary, no matter how painful for either party. He half wished he'd never confessed he wasn't really in on it and just played the part of the baddie. He suspected it would have been easier, but when he saw her, he just couldn't lie. He didn't want her to think of him as a Death Eater.

This time he didn't mumble an apology as he grabbed her roughly and leant her over the bed. A casual flick of his wand kept her tied there, but it did nothing to quell her screaming, which he let her do on purpose. The door was ajar, in the vain hope someone might come past and hear her, possibly see in. The marks on her body would be there for days though, and as long as it got back to the Dark Lord that she wasn't being treated as a house guest he didn't mind.

Frantically in his spare time he was looking for a way to get her out of there, but the place was so guarded it didn't seem possible. They were in the West Wing of Malfoy Manor; the wing Lucius had purposefully left decrepit just for the Dark Lord's needs, and it was crawling with Death Eaters and their captives, the ones that had joined Granger that night. He knew she hadn't seem them yet though; they were cooped up in the Death Eater's quarters, being raped and beaten and having all sorts of horrific things done to them. When they were finished they'd either be killed or join Granger in the cellar, to be used and abused by the next sordid man who came along.

Severus had been sending Draco on missions of his own —— missions to try and find Potter and see if they could do some sort of heroic act and save her, at least alert them to where she was. But so far, not much luck, and since Granger didn't trust them, she wasn't going to be giving up her best friend. If she wasn't being so stupid he would have considered it noble, brave, the true standing of a Gryffindor, which is what she was, but this was proof more than ever now that Severus needed to continue his belief that bravery was really just a kind word for stupidity.

"What are you doing?"

Granger's whining, sobbing voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he opened the top draw in the bedside cabinet, pulling out the whip he'd borrowed from the hall. It had taken him quite a bit to find, as he wanted one that would make a lot of marks ——to be convincing—— but not be too painful on her. Whilst it had to be done, if there was anything he could do to lessen the pain, he was going to take it. As much as she seemed to think, he really didn't enjoy raping and harming other human beings, especially not those he used to teach.

"You really are a traitor!"

Her screaming voice echoed around the room, and she was putting on a good show, whether she knew it or not. He didn't deny it, he didn't even speak, he just brought the whip down on her back and watched as the red welts appeared. One by one they turned her back a lovely shade of crimson, and had the blood not been so apparent, it would have been beautiful. Had it been an art piece, of course. But Hermione Granger's back was most certainly not an art piece. He felt sick to his stomach, but to get through it, he did the only thing he could: zone out and pretend it wasn't really happening, that it was a dream.

"I hate you, I hate you," she sobbed when he finally stopped the whipping, dropping it to the floor and sighing inwardly to himself. He took a bottle and a cloth out of the same draw, pouring some of the liquid onto the cloth and then slowly dabbing her wounds with it. It was to stop infection, but it stung like hell. It wasn't a pleasant experience, almost as bad as the whipping itself. Like that, though, it needed to be done. She lay there, silently sobbing, as though she'd lost her voice, and with as much screaming as she had done, it wouldn't have surprised him.

Severus snapped his fingers and a tiny house elf appeared, looking nervous and trembling slightly when it saw Granger's wounds.

"Get me Rowle," Snape clicked his fingers. "Now!"

The house elf Disapparated, and he knew any minute now Rowle would be on his way —— Snape would order him to take her back to her cell, and since Rowle talked so much, it was bound to get around that she'd been whipped. They both waited in silence, she didn't even protest as he thought she would, since Rowle was one of the most cruel Death Eaters. No doubt along the way he'd try and have a fondle or violate her in some way, and Snape didn't want to stop him doing so, either. It wouldn't look good.

"You called?" Rowle strolled into the room, his eyes hungry when they met with Granger's weeping and pained form.

"Take her back," Snape sneered at him, undoing the invisible bonds that held her down. "And don't worry about being gentle."

Rowle laughed. "I never am."

Well, he was right about that. Rowle didn't care about anyone but himself, that was evident when he 'accidentally' knocked into Granger's back on the way out. Had he been given her, he wasn't sure she'd have lasted a week.

~

Hermione didn't know how to feel as Rowle took her out of Snape's clutches, not missing any chance he got to 'accidentally' hurt her. The pain from the whipping was bad enough, but the stinging from whatever Snape had poured into her wounds was almost too much to handle. She wanted nothing more than to ask for a painkiller, but she doubted the beast of a man would even consider it, probably laughing at her suggestion.

"Have fun with Severus, girlie?" Rowle was walking really close to her, violating her personal space, not that she really had very much of that anymore. She ignored him, not wanting to add fuel to the fire and say or do the wrong thing. "Answer me!"

However, he didn't seem to be taking "no" for answer as he stopped them both in their tracks, shoving her roughly against the wall and causing a wound to open up and bleed down her back. "No."

Rowle sneered. "Didn't think so. Want some fun with me?"

Hermione frantically shook her head and made an attempt to duck under his arm, but he was ready for it and pulled her back, slamming her back against the wall and causing her to yelp in pain.

"There'll be a lot more where that came from if you defy me, my girl," he whispered into her ear, and she wanted to shout back that she wasn't his girl. If anything, she was Snape's, but she didn't want to acknowledge herself as property, and she didn't really have the strength to argue, so she leant back against the wall and let him have his way with her. All he did was use his fingers, shoving them under her dress and past her knickers before ramming them into her, but she wasn't sure it made a difference. He was still violating her and she was taking it, too tired and weary to fight back as she would have a week ago. "You seem to be learning your place. It seems that whipping will be the making of you."

Hermione ignored him, her eyes averted as he led her back to her cell. She didn't like being there, it was cold and dirty, and she felt so lonely. She hardly liked the company of Snape, or anyone else for that matter, but she hated sitting alone in silence, having so much time to think about the predicament she was in and how there was nothing she could do about it. It made her depressed and she felt her sanity slowly slipping away from her the longer she stayed there.

Finally, after another week, Hermione got her wish —— more company, though it was in the form of a couple of very thin and very bruised girls. They seemed to be of a similar age to her, one brunette and one blonde, but she didn't recognise them. Malfoy dragged them in at god knows what time, roughly shoving them both into the cell opposite her, and she couldn't help but stare at how scared they were. Their bodies seemed to be used as a blank canvas, as there were wounds all over, and it looked as though they hadn't had a bath in days with the dried blood and what she could only imagine as semen on them.

"Who are they?" she whispered to Malfoy as he made his way out, but he just shrugged. "Whose were they?"

"Rodolphus', though when he was finished with them Bellatrix had to have her go. Far too jealous, she is. Really took it out on them, as though it was their fault he found them attractive."

"Your aunt always has been insane," she said, then realised what she'd said and who exactly she'd said it to. "I'm sorry..."

Malfoy waved his hand dismissively. "No bother, Granger. I can hardly deny you're wrong, can I?"

She watched him leave, his back rigid and his whole body tense. He was hating this, she could tell, and he probably wished for the days when they were all back at school and simply rivals just as much as she did. At least back then it was just playing around, nobody would get hurt, it was just a game. Now it wasn't just a game, and at any moment they could lose their lives if they made too many wrong moves.

"You know him?" the brunette whispered, eyeing her suspciously.

Hermione nodded. "We went to school together."

"You went to _school_ together?"

"We were rivals back then. Now we're both pawns in a war, on opposite sides. You can't help but feel sorry ——"

The blonde stirred. "Excuse me?" she stood up, albeit slowly, and got as close to the bars as she could. "You feel sorry for that _monster_?"

"He's not a monster, and he's a victim just like we are."

The blonde scoffed, and the brunette looked as though Hermione shouldn't have said anything. Perhaps she shouldn't. "That man _raped_ me and you're telling me he's _not_ a monster?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione sighed, realising she'd touched a raw nerve, "but I won't take back what I said. He did what he had to do. His life is on the line too, you know..."

Saying that made her think about Snape, and how he'd said he was just doing what he had to. It wasn't easy to believe that, though, with what he'd put her through. Flashes of him went through her mind, and she realised they were the actions and behaviours of someone who felt incredibly guilty; how he avoided her gaze, how he didn't speak to her much, how he apologised. Perhaps this was hitting him just as hard as it was her. Perhaps he needed saving too. It was something to think about, she knew, and in this position, she had a lot of time to do that, especially since she'd just seemed to piss off the only two girls she'd met in two weeks.

~

"I heard about the Mudblood's whipping," Voldemort said quietly, his head resting on his hands. "You did well. Is she any better behaved?"

Severus nodded. "She is."

"Has she spoke about Potter?"

"I'm afraid not, My Lord."

Fury flashed across Voldemort's eyes, his fists clenching so hard they were white with discomfort. "I can always give her to Bella if you can't handle it."

"I can handle it," Severus said quickly, not wanting to lose her now he was so close. It had been three weeks now, and Draco was growing ever closer to finding Potter —— he was following up new leads every day, and they knew they were in the right area. He just needed more time, more time to get her to safety. "I'll try harder, my Lord."

"You had better. If she hasn't given us _something_ by your report next week, I'm giving her to Bella. Don't fail me, Severus, or she won't be the only one with her life on the line."

Severus nodded again, keeping the genuine fear out of his face, remaining as expressionless as always. "Yes, my Lord."

The journey to the cellar was a long, horrible one —— he knew what he had to do, now, having rallied Rowle and the Death Eaters for another _party_. There was a chance Draco couldn't find Potter within the next week, and if he didn't, he'd need something, anything, about Potter to tell the Dark Lord. He was going to have to play the Death Eater he really hadn't wanted to, to try and force the information out of her. He needed it, she needed it, and she didn't even realise it. It wasn't as if he could blurt it out, what are the chances she would believe him? And besides, she might go spreading around what he'd said. No, he couldn't chance that. It was too risky.

"Out," he commanded when he finally reached the cellar, seeing her huddled in a corner. She clearly noticed his change in attitude as there was a baffled look on her face, and she didn't flinch when he attached the leash to her collar.

"Where are we going?" she asked, stumbling up the stairs after him. He didn't reply, not wanting to tell her the truth. She probably wouldn't follow him so willingly, then. Not if she knew he was leading her to another rape. Her whining continued throughout the halls, so much so that she didn't even notice them arrive at the hall, which made it easy to take off the leash and push her in, walking away before she had time to plead with him.

Her screams as he walked away were more than enough to unsettle him.

~

Hermione look around the room as the door was closed behind her, several spells being cast to stop her leaving. It didn't stop her attempting to get away from their clutching hands, though it didn't work as the room was crawling with Death Eaters, young and old alike, and this time, Bellatrix and Lucius were present. She didn't understand why Snape wasn't —— perhaps she had been right in what she was contemplating, and he just couldn't bear it.

"Little girl." Hermione spun around, seeing Bellatrix smirking at her. "How nice of you to join us."

Hermione shook her head, as though she couldn't really believe this was happening to her again. This time it was worse —— Snape wasn't there to save her from Bellatrix's wrath, or any of the Death Eater's plans to take her anal virginity. Not even Malfoy was there, offering her an expressionless look, though she was sure he was feeling pity inside, if he allowed himself to. She started to tremble and dropped to the floor, her head resting on her hands and whispering "No, no, no," over and over.

"Oh yes, sweetie," Bellatrix said, grabbing her hair and lifting her up by it. "We want a good time, and you're going to give it to us."

As she did when Rowle violated her, Hermione let them do it. There was no chance of escape, there were too many of them here, and trying to defy them would just make the experience even more horrible. Now she had no protector, she was having to look after herself, and she reckoned the best way was to just give in to it. So she didn't complain when Bellatrix dragged her across a table, spread her legs and started to play with her. It didn't stop her body responding in the natural way, but her mind was elsewhere.

It was if she was above herself, watching the atrocities happen to her, rather than them actually feeling them. She knew what was going on, and her body was responding to Bellatrix's expert fingers, but her mind just wasn't there.

"There you are, Lucius," Bellatrix said, pulling away her fingers when Hermione was wet enough. "She's ready for you." He nodded curtly and undid his trousers, forcing himself into Hermione whilst Bellatrix kept her legs spread, though she didn't need to. Hermione wasn't in the mood, or the right mind, to resist.

Avery was now in front of her head, his rock hard cock out and in front of her mouth. She heard the warning about biting, but she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't even try and give him pleasure, letting him fuck her mouth as she knew he wanted to. It was obvious they didn't want a willing participant in their games —— just someone to rape and defile.

This time it didn't feel as long and perhaps it wasn't. Maybe because she wasn't resisting they just weren't as interested. Maybe the only thing that got them off was her unwillingness to be a partner in their games. It seemed her entertainment value had decreased since she stopped caring, and luckily for her, none of them had even gone near her ass. Last time Snape had stopped them, this time he might've threatened them not to. She hoped so, but she didn't need to worry anymore as Malfoy was called and ordered to take her back. Boos followed them out of the room, and she found a sweet satisfaction in the fact she wasn't as pleasing.

"Not long now," Malfoy muttered in her ear when they were alone in the corridor.

Hermione was baffled. "Sorry?"

"Oh," Malfoy looked as if he shouldn't have said anything. "Nevermind."

"What's 'not long now'?"

"Speak to Snape."

"But ——"

Malfoy sighed. "I won't discuss the matter with you any further, Granger."

Knowing his tone was final, Hermione didn't press the issue any further, hoping she'd be brought to Snape's quarters soon to ask him. If there was something she wasn't being told, she wanted to know about it, and from the way Malfoy was talking, it sounded as though it was good news.

Unfortunately for her, though, she had to wait several days before she saw him again, and she suspected the reason was that he was ashamed of what he'd pushed her into. He couldn't look her in the eyes, and seemed bashful when he finally did come to see her. There was something different about him, though, and he seemed in a massive hurry to get her out of her cellar and into his quarters. He practically ran with her through the corridors, only slowing down when people passed, snickering at her predicament.

~

Severus closed the door behind them, casting many silencing charms and locking spells upon the door. They really couldn't afford to be interupted or overheard at this time, it was too crucial. He'd brought Draco along to give her the news, explain everything fully since he was the one that had been doing the missions.

Draco was sat in one of the armchairs, staring intently at Granger. "We found Potter." Granger gasped and fell to her knees, sobbing instantly.

"He's not dead, is he? Tell me he's not dead..."

"No, Granger," Draco said, interupting her. "_We_," he pointed to Severus and himself, "found Potter. Not the Dark Lord."

Her eyes searched the both of them, but she still looked baffled. "I don't understand."

"Since you were brought here, I've been going on missions and following leads to find Potter. I wanted to explain exactly where we had you and what he could do to save you. After a month of searching, I finally found him last night, and he's coming today."

"If you wanted to know where he was," she whispered, slowly standing up, "why didn't you just ask me?"

Draco let out a laugh. "You didn't fully trust us, and we couldn't take the chance that you might go blabbing about what we were doing."

"So, you really aren't traitors?"

Severus in particular shook his head quite frantically. "No."

"And Harry's coming today?"

Draco nodded. "We expect him in the next half an hour; we've purposefully left a gaping hole in the charms around the West Wing."

Severus brought the leash out of his pocket and Hermione's eyes transfixed on it.

"What are you doing?"

"Our lives are on the line should you be taken when you are with us. We still need to maintain our cover here, to win the war, so we're leaving you with Bella for when Potter's expected," Severus explained, clasping the leash onto the metal ring on the collar. "Both she and the Dark Lord think I'm giving you to her permenantly, because I _failed_ to get any information out of you. So, she's going to try. Make sure she thinks you don't want to be with her."

"I won't need to fake that," Granger scowled, looking quite dejected that she had to be in the mad woman's company alone. He could imagine the thoughts running through her head, particularly if Potter was late or stalled by other Death Eaters. Severus knew he shouldn't be, since he'd know exactly where Granger was and how to get there without being seen, but there was always the possibility of something going wrong, especially with the place crawling with Death Eaters ready to fight at a moments notice. "She wont... she won't _harm_ me, will she?"

"She won't kill you if that's what you mean," Draco said, a litte amusement in his face. "She likes to toy with her prey before she kills them."

"Encouraging," she said, though seemingly quite hopeful that she might be leaving this place soon. Just as they were nearly out the door, she muttered something, so quiet neither of them heard her until she repeated it again upon their request. "Thanks. For saving me."

Not knowing what to say to that and feeling quite embarrassed, Severus just nodded, but watched as Draco soaked in the glory and smirked to himself. Severus thought it was really quite obvious that it was aimed at him, but she didn't say anything, finding it a little amusing by the small smile on her face. Undoing the charms, they left the room, each praying nothing would go wrong, because if it did, they could lose their lives.

~

Hermione breathed in deeply as they stood outside Bellatrix's quarters, hoping more than anything that Harry wouldn't take too long to turn up. The last time she had been in the care of Bellatrix, she had almost ended up dead, Crucioed until she passed out and then threatened with a knife. She looked at Snape and he nodded curtly at her, tugging on the leash as he pushed his way inside.

Bellatrix was stood in the middle of the room, facing the window, and upon hearing them enter turned around. The grin on her face was very apparent, and she looked like the cat who had got the cream. It unnerved Hermione like nothing else, and she gulped —— there was no way she'd have to act not wanting to be there, and until she saw Harry, her hope was very much under wraps.

"She's all yours," Snape said quietly, placing the leash in Bellatrix's hands.

"Good," Bellatrix mused, circling Hermione, tugging her hair every now and then. "You can go now," she waved her hands dismissively at Snape and Malfoy and Hermione started to panic as the only people who looked after her left the room.

_It won't be long_, she told herself, staring at the floor with tears in her eyes. _Harry will be here soon, with the Order no doubt._

"Now, where to start?" Bellatrix looked Hermione up and down and licked her lips. "Your clothes, I think. Strip."

Nervously, not wanting anger her before Harry arrived, Hermione did as asked, trembling under the older woman's gaze. She wasn't wearing much, and what she had got on showed her off, but it was better than nothing, at least she was covered. Now she stood in front of Bellatrix completely naked and vulnerable, her hands around her breasts and covering her vagina in an effort to keep herself hidden.

Bellatrix laughed. "No need to cover up, dear. I've already seen it."

Cringing, Hermione moved her arms to her sides, counting the minutes. Harry had to be there soon, he just had to. Bellatrix started to toy with Hermione's nipple, tugging it away from her body until it was erect under her touch. She told herself it was just the cold, but Bellatrix seemed to think it was something else.

"Do I arouse you, girlie?"

Hermione shook her head and pinched her eyes shut to stop the tears that threatened to fall. It earned her a really large tug, so much so she thought the woman was going to rip it from her body. Then it was set free and bounced back, the blood rushing into it with an astonishing pain as she let out a yelp.

"Knees," Bellatrix commanded, and Hermione obeyed, her breathing growing more rapid by the second. "Good girl," Bellatrix cooed as she lifted up her skirt to expose her naked cunt, dripping wet already from staring at Hermione.

Just as Hermione bent forward to complete the task she'd been assigned, however repulsed by it she was, there was a loud ruckus outside and hope streamed through her heart. There were shouts and screams, bangs everywhere, and then the door burst open. Hermione twisted her head around to see Harry, Ron and several Order members behind her, wands out at the ready and slowly walking into the room.

"Bellatrix," Arthur said through clenched teeth. "Back away, now."

Suddenly Hermione was very aware of how naked she was, covering herself up with her hands and facing Bellatrix again.

Bellatrix giggled and bent forwards so her face was in Hermione's. "Now you're modest?"

The humiliation burnt through Hermione, staring at the floor and hoping it would swallow her up, but then she heard a crack forcing her to look back into the room. Bellatrix was no longer in front of her, and with a quick scope around, she was no longer in the room. She smiled, but the Order didn't seem as gleeful as she was.

"We've got to go," Harry said hurridly. "Get dressed."

Hermione had never got dressed faster than she had just then, walking and positioning herself in the middle of the Order since she didn't have a wand. If they were going to fight, she would be useless, and she suspected Bellatrix had Apparated to fetch Voldemort and round up the other Death Eaters.

"Down here," Ron said, leading them into another corridor which looked just the same as last time. "I'm positive."

Suddenly there was a crack, making Hermione jump and look around nervously —— Rowle, Snape, and both Malfoys were just behind them. They weren't blocking their way, which gave them an opportunity for them to walk forwards with the wizards behind her casting spells. She zoned out, too afraid to keep in the moment in case this escape attempt didn't work, but she did notice before she did so that Snape and Draco's spells were pitiful at best, not to mention completely missing everyone.

Another crack alerted Hermione back into the present, and she noticed Bellatrix and Avery in front of them.

"Forget it," Harry said quickly. "Grab, now!"

Hermione didn't know what he meant, but she didn't have to as hands grabbed at her and she felt them floating through the air; they were Apparating. She didn't know why they didn't just do that when they arrived in Bellatrix's quarters, and she made a note to ask that when they were settled and perfectly safe. She felt dizzy and nauseaus as they landed on soft ground, her hands feeling for the surface which was muddy grass.

"Alright," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "And again —— now we know none of them followed us."

This time prepared, Hermione clung on a lot harder as they Disapparated, and was able to keep her balance when they landed this time. She didn't recognise where they were —— it was another field with tents everywhere, books and robes careslessly strewn across the grass. "Where are we?" she asked softly.

"Camp," Harry said firmly, avoiding her gaze. She suspected it was because of the predicament she'd been in when they found her, and she wasn't sure if their friendship would be able to survive something so..._revealing_. If it could, it would take a long time. "After you left and got captured, we moved. We felt we had to, in case you said where we were."

"I'd never do that!" she exclaimed, thinking about what she'd went through —— the uncertainty of whether Snape was a traitor or not. "You should have known."

"I tried to tell him," Ron shrugged. "You know how stubborn he is."

"Did they hurt you?" Arthur asked, not wanting to scan her body for presumably the same reason as Harry.

She shook her head. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them. "Not really. It was Snape that saved me, you know. Without him, I'm not sure we would have survived this long," she looked at the ground wearily. "I just hope he'll be okay."

"He will be," Ron said. "I heard him shouting Bellatrix's name when we left, so I think she'll get the blame for it. Not him."

"Good," she nodded to herself, feeling relieved. "He's a very intense man. More so than I would have thought, and it pains me that I only just found that out now. Perhaps if I'd ——"

Ron put his hands on her shoulders. "You did enough, you did what you could. Believe that, Hermione, or you'll never get over this."

"You're right," she managed the briefest of smiles. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Of course," they all said in unison as she walked into the nearest tent. She lay on the bed there, and found it a lot more comfortable than her recent quarters. She closed her eyes, but she was unable to drift off, the image of Snape firmly in her head. It seemed it would take her a very long time to get over this, perhaps even longer than it would take to win the war, and for Snape to come out into the right side.

If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that she would keep him as safe as she could from her current position. He wouldn't die at the hands of Voldemort, she was certain of that. She wouldn't let that happen.

She _couldn't_ let that happen.


End file.
